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'And you know who, too. Don't you, Esme?' said Nanny slyly.

She saw Granny look around wildly at the grubby walls.

'I reckon she's too poor to afford a mirror,' said Nanny. 'I ain't blind, Esme. And I know mirrors and fairy godmothers go together. So what's going on?'

'I ain't saying. I don't want to look a fool if I'm wrong. I'm not going to - there's something coming!'

Nanny Ogg pressed her nose against the dirty window.

'Can't see anything.'

"The bushes moved. Get into the bed!'

'Me? I thought it was you who was going into the bed!'

'Can't imagine why you'd think that.'

'No. Come to think of it, neither can I,' said Nanny wearily. She picked up the floppy mob-cap from the bedpost, put it on, and slid under the patchwork quilt.

' 'Ere, this mattress is stuffed with straw!'

'You won't have to lie on it for long.'

'It prickles! And I think there's things in it.'

Something bumped against the wall of the house. The witches fell silent.

There was a snuffling noise under the back door.

'You know,' whispered Nanny, as they waited, 'the scullery's terrible. There's no firewood. And there's hardly any food. And there's a jug of milk that's practically on the march -'

Granny sidled quickly across the room to the fireplace, and then back to her station by the front door.

After a moment there was a scrabbling at the latch, as if it was being operated by someone who was unfamiliar either with doors or with fingers.

The door creaked open slowly.

There was an overwhelming smell of musk and wet fur.

Uncertain footsteps tottered across the floor and towards the figure huddling under the bedclothes.

Nanny raised the mob-cap's floppy frill just enough to see out.

'Wotcha,' she said, and then, 'Oh, blimey, I never realized you had teeth that big - '

Granny Weatherwax pushed the door shut and stepped forward briskly. The wolf spun around, a paw raised protectively.

'Nooaaaaaw!'

Granny hesitated for a second, and then hit it very hard on the head with a cast-iron frying pan.

The wolf crumpled.

Nanny Ogg swung her legs out of the bed.

'When it happened over Skund way they said it was a werewolf or something, and I thought, no, werewolves aren't like that,' she said. 'I never thought it was a real wolf. Gave me quite a turn, that.'

'Real wolves don't walk on their hind legs and open doors,' said Granny Weatherwax. 'Come on, help me get it outside.'

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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